Strangers In A Strange Land
by erinthesails
Summary: Conrad heads to the doctor's office for his weekly appointment, only to discover that something is a little different about Worth. Can be interpreted as shippy or platonic, take your pick.


"Well well well, look what th' bat dragged in."

Crooked, cigarette stained teeth flashed across the dingy, smoke filled office as Conrad swung the door open, stepping quickly out of the rain.

"You know," said Conrad curtly as the door clicked shut behind him. "In most social situations it might be considered impolite to make jokes on behalf of the recently deceased."

"Eh, yer still walkin' ain't ya?"

Conrad rolled his eyes and shrugged off his dripping jacket, not bothering to spare the doctor a glance.

"'Sides, it's been, wot, half a year now? Hate ta break it to ya but th' funeral's been over fer a while now Princess, so quit yer whinin', Christ. Compared to Deadguy McWhatshisname I'd say ya didn't get outta this half bad."

"Mmm, yes, a lifetime of visiting you every week," Conrad said absently, scouring the far corner of the office for some place to put his (exceedingly expensive and inordinately flimsy, Jesus, why did he even buy this?) rain coat that wouldn't leave it crawling with too many diseases. "Clearly I've hit the jackpot."

Finally locating a bent, chipping knob on the wall that may once have been intended as a coat hook long before Worth had taken up residence and gingerly hanging up his coat by as little fabric as he could manage, he turned with a sigh to greet the current and most pervasive bane of his existence. And was promptly stricken speechless with shock.

Worth was clad head to toe in a crisp, black suit, complete with a silk tie and real leather shoes.

Worth scowled at Conrad's dumbstruck expression, mirth falling suddenly away, as if only just remembering what Conrad must have been gawking at.

"I swear ta god if ya say one word about this goddamned monkey suit…" he snarled, swiveling slightly in his chair to fiddle with the crimson tie cinched clumsily around his neck.

Conrad gaped soundlessly as Worth rose from his desk, mocking cadence gone as he plucked in annoyance at the neatly tailored sleeves of the sleek, black suit coat. The sight was jarring to say the least. In the many, fist fight filled months since Conrad's fateful first meeting with Hanna and a certain snarky vampire-bat, he couldn't remember seeing Worth even once in anything other then that disgusting fur collared lab coat. Seeing him wear something clean would have been a surprise unto itself, but something that by even Conrad's standards might have been considered _classy? _Unthinkable.

Conrad couldn't help but note with growing incredulity all the little details of Worth's bizarre new appearance. He was almost completely clean-shaven and his face was scrubbed free of the usual grime, entirely devoid of scrapes or bandages. His hair, which normally looked to be about the color and consistency of sun-bleached straw, had been shampooed, _conditioned_ even, and was tousled into something that one might almost mistake for a style. Conrad had never seen him look more miserable.

"So uh," Conrad cleared his throat, fighting to keep his manner casual as the doctor stalked off to retrieve Conrad's…supplies, for lack of a better word that didn't make the vampire's skin crawl with discomfort. "Is there any particular reason for…you know…"

"Th' fuck did I jus' say?" Worth growled, leaning back around the doorway to glare at Conrad from the dimly lit back room he had just disappeared into. "'S none'a yer goddamn business, so don't ask."

"Ah, okay then. Terribly sorry to have intruded upon your very top secret business," Conrad said, rolling his eyes, crossing his arms, and just barely catching himself before accidentally leaning back against the grimy, spackled wall.

"It's just…a nice change I guess," Conrad said after a moment of silence. "You know, not having to wade through clouds of human filth right before eating, for once."

Though there was not much to be done about the state of the office at this point, Conrad supposed, glancing around with a grimace. But still, he'd take stale, mostly nonbiological rubbish over the heavy, musky scent of dirty clothes and unwashed hair and cigarettes and general neglect that seemed always to be clinging to Worth's skin.

"Well thanks fer that Confag," Worth drawled, voice dripping with acid as he reemerged into the waiting room, blood bag in hand. "Tha' might just be th' gayest thing I ever heard. 'N I been round my fair share'a gay bars too."

Conrad blinked and wilted in confusion, retort dying on his lips.

"Wait, why the fuck were you hanging around gay bars?"

Worth shrugged and tossed the bag across the room to Conrad, then leaned languidly against the doorway and watching with amusement as Conrad fumbled to catch it.

"Sommat ta do innit?" he said indifferently, as if that settled the matter, fishing a loose cigarette from his coat and holding it to his lips, lighter clicking behind his fingers.

"Whatever," Conrad rolled his eyes as he pocketed the cool plastic sheaf of 0 negative with a scowl. "I'm going home now. I'll leave you to be weird and evasive in peace, I guess."

Conrad hadn't even made it two steps towards the door when Worth's lecherous croon made him falter in his steps.

"Aw leavin' so soon Connie?" Conrad could practically hear the smirk twisting at the doctor's lips. "Sure ya ain't interested in a candlelight dinner or sommat? Yanno, since yer so keen on my very becomin' getup."

Conrad grimaced, hands balling up into fists, then wheeled back around to fact the leering man, still leaning casually up against the doorway.

"Okay," Conrad said, taking a deep breath, willing himself to remain calm. "Do you think you could explain to me why it is that everything always seem come back to me being gay with you? Jesus, it's called being friendly, you dick!"

"Hm I don' remember sayin' anythin' about ya bein' gay with me, Princess. Sure that weren't just wishful thinkin'?"

"I…you…– argh!" Conrad threw his hands up in frustration. God dammit, he'd promised himself he wouldn't let Worth rile him up anymore. He _swore _to himself before walking into the office, just like he'd sworn to himself every week for the past year that he wouldn't let that stupid drugged out Aussie get to him, wouldn't let him get under Conrad's skin ever again. Maybe one day Conrad would win this little game they played, but his twitching fingers, longing to twine themselves, vicelike, around the doctor's neck, told him that this was not that day.

"What the hell is your problem? In case you forgot, you were the one talking about going to gay bars just a minute ago, so I don't see what you're acting so smug about."

"You were tha one askin' about it Connie," Worth snickered around his cigarette. "If ya ask me, this 'ere's a tex'book case of repre–Oof!"

Without even thinking about what he was doing, Conrad had reeled back and slammed a fist into the doctor's jaw, knocking his gently smoldering cigarette and equally poisonous grin right off of his face.

"Heh. Right then," Worth snarled, fisting Conrad's shirt in his hand before he had time to escape, and returned the favor.

"Fucking prick," Conrad hissed, collecting himself quickly from the blow and launching himself back at the doctor, the two of them collapsing promptly into a tangle of flying fists and flailing limbs. At some point the bag of blood slipped from Conrad's pocket and was crushed underfoot, spattering both their shoes and eliciting another violent hiss and elbow to the face from Conrad.

It was several minutes before they finally collapsed, panting, to the floor. Still groaning with strain and irritation, Conrad hoisted himself hastily to his feet, careful to avoid the puddle of now wasted blood pooling on the concrete floor. He was sore, but at least he no was no longer burdened with the inconvenience of having to catch his breath, and there was no way he was staying on that disgusting floor a second longer than he absolutely had to.

He stretched, straightening his back and brushing off the excess of dirt accumulated on his clothes to the best of his ability, his eyes flicking up fleetingly to glance at Worth. The other man was pushing himself belatedly to his feet, rubbing at a rather impressive bruise now blossoming over the sharp edge of his jaw in shades of purple and red. Worth cast his eyes over his previously nearly impeccable ensemble and scowled, pulling at his tie, the poorly done knot now knocked completely askew. A strange combination of pride and something that almost resembled regret bubbled up in Conrad's chest as he eyed Worth's faint bruises and horribly ruffled ensemble. Well, at least he looked a little more like himself now.

"Stupid fag," Worth grumbled finally, leaning back against his desk and tugging fruitlessly at the crumpled silk, the knot hanging loosely down around his sternum. "Took me fer goddamn ever ta get this thing on."

Conrad leaned heavily against the doorway, fear of contamination temporarily forgotten in his exhaustion. He might not have been able to get out of breath anymore, but his muscle mass and stamina were still no better than they had been in high school, especially after not having eaten in over a week. His stomach twisted painfully as the aroma of blood from the busted bag on the floor reached his nose. He crossed his arms tightly over his chest, fighting to block it out. At least Worth's lip or nose hadn't been busted. Fresh blood would have been infinitely more difficult to resist.

"You're tying it wrong," he said finally, after watching Worth struggle for several moments to no avail, more to distract himself than anything else.

"Shuddup," Worth grumbled, chair creaking as he leaned, brows furrowed, eyes fixed intently upon his fingers working the hopelessly knotted tie dangling at his chest.

Conrad sighed and pulled his weight off the wall.

"Okay stand up, just let me do it," he said, striding brusquely over to the desk.

"No, fuck off."

"You broke my blood bag, asshole. Remember? I'm stuck here until you can be bothered to go get a new one, which clearly isn't going to be anytime soon the way this is going. So shut up and let me help."

Pale fingers tugged firmly at the clean white collar of Worth's shirt, dragging him begrudgingly to his feet and around the side of the desk.

"Christ, didn't you spend _some _time at med school? How do you not know how to tie a tie?"

"'S been a while alright? Some people got better shit ta do with their lives than remember how ta tie stupid ass ties."

Conrad rolled his eyes and pulled at the messy, too tight knot that Worth had managed, letting it fall away into long lines of kinked red silk bisecting the stark white of his chest. It was a little weird, Conrad realized suddenly, as he straightened out the fabric and crossed the two ends over each other, being this close to Worth in a non-violent context. The apparently thorough scouring of his entire being had left him smelling vaguely of mint and soap, choked out by the ever-present aroma of cigarette smoke. Oddly enough, Conrad found himself thinking, it might have been an almost pleasant combination of scents, were it not for the man who wore them.

"So," Conrad said, breaking the suddenly uncomfortable silence, fingers stumbling over the knot and forcing him to start again. "You want to explain why the hell you're even wearing this in the first place?"

Worth tensed and grumbled unintelligibly to himself. In his peripheral vision, Conrad saw his eyes narrow and flick away.

"Meetin' my sister," he finally said, spitting out the words like they tasted bitter on his tongue. "Not tha' _you _need ta know."

Conrad stuttered again in his motions, glancing up briefly.

"You have a sister?"

"Mmm. Don' get any ideas now Confag. Ya might be dead, but I got a feelin' that gettin' yer kidneys ripped out still won' be too pleasant."

Conrad shot a disgusted look at the general vicinity of Worth's top button.

"Thanks, I'll keep that in mind. That still doesn't really explain the suit though."

Worth breathed heavily through his nose, ruffling Conrad's hair ever so slightly.

"Parents are always tryin'a send me money," he mumbled in poorly masked irritation. "'M a goddamned adult, I ain't no one's charity case."

Conrad snorted.

"Seriously? That's what this is about? I don't think it counts as charity when it's your parents, Worth."

"'S still pity money 'n I don' want it," he growled, baring a few jagged teeth. "Doin' jus' fine on my own, thank ya very much."

As he made the final loop on Worth's tie, pulling the knot tight around his neck, Conrad was hit with a sudden sense of vertigo. All at once it dawned on him that he'd known Worth for a year now, and that in all those months, this was the first time Worth had ever really shared anything about himself. Though it was true they'd spent the majority of this time on less than friendly terms, a year was still a long time to know somebody without ever really knowing anything about them. Sure, Conrad had picked up bits and pieces over time, but the vast majority of personal details the doctor had chosen to share were accompanied by a leer, a cackle, all expressly intended to further horrify and disgust him. Even including the one evening months before, when Conrad, to his horror and embarrassment, had accidentally discovered just what was under those bandages crisscrossing the doctor's arms and just why they were there, tonight was the first time that Doc Worth, – disgusting, repugnant, unknowable Worth – who was technically more alive than Conrad was, had ever actually seemed human.

And then, as suddenly as it had arrived, the vertigo receded, the tide of reality washing back over him along with the realization that Worth was still glaring down at him expectantly and that Conrad was still clutching loosely at the knot of his tie and that wow was it warm in here. Conrad cleared his throat and released Worth's tie, taking two steps back for good measure.

"You're done," he said awkwardly, sticking his hands into his pockets.

"Mph," said Worth, which Conrad decided he would take to mean "thank you".

Conrad shifted uncomfortably, drumming his fingers on his leg as the other man inspected his now neatly knotted tie and grumbled to himself in aimless annoyance.

"I uh…believe you have something for me?" Conrad cut in pointedly after a moment.

"Yeah yeah I gotcher goddamn Scooby Snacks, Princess," Worth said, turning back to his desk and pulling a bag smoothly out of his pocket, tossing it over his shoulder for Conrad to fumble for without looking.

"Wait what the fuck?"

Worth grinned at the scowling vampire as he slid back behind his desk and pulled out a crumpled box of cigarettes, tapping one out into his waiting fingers.

"You had this in your pocket the whole time? Why the fuck didn't you just give it to me before I went and tied your stupid tie for you?"

"What kin I say Fagula?" Worth said, shrugging and cupping his hands as another cigarette flared to life between his lips. "Ya make a good wifey in a pinch."

"Ugh," Conrad stuffed the bag in his pocket and whirled around, seething. "I'm leaving now, asshole."

"See ya next week darlin'," came the lazy, hazy voice from somewhere across the room, words drifting over to Conrad just like the smoke spilling from the lips that uttered them. He grit his teeth and snatched his still damp jacket from the crumbling coat hook on the back wall, shoving his arms through and pulling the hood over his head before yanking the door wide to the downpour he had almost forgotten was still raging on outside.

He stepped out, hand on the knob, and cast one last glance inside, just long enough to catch a final glimpse of Worth, feet crossed and propped up on his desk, head tipped back, away from the door, blowing smoke rings at the flickering fluorescents. Conrad slammed the door shut, turning and bracing himself against the wind before setting out once more into the rain.

_Until next week, you smug asshole._


End file.
